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In Botswana,
There’s More than One Way to Spot an Elephant

By Joyce Dalton

Botswana wasn’t my first safari destination and I fervently hope it won’t be my last. While I’d be hard pressed to say which African country claims the most exciting concentration of wildlife or the most magnificent scenery, I know which offers the greatest number of ways to view both. Botswana wins hands down.

During my time at Chobe National Park and the Okavango Delta, we surveyed the scene from tough all-terrain vehicles with raised rows of seats and removable canvas tops, one of many variations of traditional safari vehicles. We also viewed local residents ranging from lions to monitor lizards to lilac breasted rovers from dugout canoes, motorboats and larger vessels complete with deck chairs. And then there were the walks through waving fields of tall grasses where we came eye to knee with giraffes and watched a lion bring down a buffalo from our vantage point on a termite mound. Although it wasn’t offered during my stay, horseback rides are yet another option.

A one-hour drive took me from Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe to the Botswana border. This is the usual entry point for Chobe, while tourists headed for the Delta often start from Maun on the Okavango’s eastern edge. Though my crossing couldn’t have been easier, the difference in border officials was notable: in contrast to the Zimbabwean agent’s unfriendly air, his Botswanan counterpart couldn’t have been more pleasant and welcoming. I also appreciated the signs at customs: “If God intended people to smoke, he would have made chimneys in their heads” and “Smoking is a loaded pistol waiting to be triggered.”  This was my introduction to the Botswana government’s dedicated and clear plan for the betterment of its people. The country has seen tourism rise to second place in the economy, outshone only by the diamond industry. Development was not by chance. Early on, it was determined just what type of tourism would offer the greatest benefits – jobs and income without the demoralization of traditional customs and values. Low-volume, upmarket became the tourism goal and efforts to achieve this have included strong conservation laws and tight control over development.

From the border, a 20-minute drive led to our first up-market example, Mowana Safari Lodge at the edge of Chobe National Park. Mowana means “baobab” in a local language and a huge specimen of this famed African tree, whose branches resemble roots twisting in the air, held center place in the courtyard, while a large wood and thatch building housing public spaces curved around it. Guest rooms lay off covered exterior corridors leading from the main structure. My room, the Okavango suite, was so inviting, sights less tempting than Chobe’s famed elephants might have kept me happily room-bound for the duration of my stay.

A two-tone door of gorgeous African wood led to a living room boasting a woven sisal carpet, upholstered rattan chairs, a large bar with the requisite stools, an entry table of stone and glass topped by a hippo carved in polished stone, numerous lamps and wall sconces, and a zebra skin rug. The outer wall had large windows across its length plus a vine-covered terrace with deck chairs in a zebra-striped pattern.

In the bedroom, a king-size bed with headboard of varied-toned wood and a traditional weaving hanging from the ceiling held center stage, while a sizeable desk, an arm chair, a large vanity and a wardrobe added interest along with utilitarian value. Multiple windows offered views of trees and the river. Sliding doors framed by wooden panels with bamboo insets separated the two rooms. Rooms boasted high peaked ceilings of wooden poles and thatch and each was equipped with bamboo shades, a ceiling fan and air conditioning. The bath claimed a large tub, separate shower stall and a ceramic sink with an interesting hand-painted design.

My afternoon boating excursion proved fascinating with more sights, vistas and information than any normal person could hope to absorb in three hours. While a group set out in a larger vessel, I had John, a guide, and a motorboat with reasonably comfortable chairs all to myself. It’s impossible to imagine any guide working harder to inform and please his guests, be they a boatful of VIPs or a single ready-to-be-impressed tourist like myself.

The Chobe River serves as boundary between Botswana and Namibia’s Caprivi Strip. Ten miles downstream, it meets the Zambezi River and continues on to Vic Falls. Almost immediately, John began pointing out flora and fauna that I probably would have missed on my own. Among them: an African jacana, nicknamed the Jesus bird, for its ability to walk tiptoe on spidery feet over tiny water plants; pied kingfishers; woolynecked storks; mosquite weaver nests built of reeds hanging from low trees, their images reflected in the water; a monitor lizard lazily crawling along a log, flicking its tongue in anticipation of dinner; a pair of fish eagles perched high in a tree like monarchs surveying their kingdom; pygmy geese, the smallest in the world; delicately beautiful birds such as the blue-cheeked bee eater, the red bishop, a water dikkop (blue with a red beak), and the incredible lilac breasted rover (the national bird of Botswana and perhaps the one African bird I’ve learned to identify).

Before long, we encountered fauna of the four-legged variety: a baboon troop with its fun-loving, always-on-the-move babies; a multitude of hippos snorting at one another (hippos are considered Africa’s most dangerous animal and we maintained a respectful 20 meter distance); two crocodiles; Cape buffalo and bushbucks on the shore, and more elephants than I could count ambling down to the water for an afternoon drink and bath. And everywhere, that vast only-in-Africa sky reached down to the brilliant green of the shore like the ultimate wide-screen spectacle.

By road, Chobe National Park is 10 km from Mowana. Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians shared my vehicle. Chobe comprises 11,000 sq meters which means

plenty of room for the animals to spread out. The birders among us were thrilled with the likes of fish eagles, Egyptian geese and blacksmith plovers, while the rest of us clicked away at kudu (an antelope that, we learned, can jump three meters), impalas, three female and one male lion sleeping off dinner (the all-too-evident left-overs nearby for an after-nap snack), elephants so close we could (but wisely, didn’t) reach out and touch them and as daylight began to dim, the always elegant giraffes.

At breakfast the next morning, I discovered that the clean-cut young men I had taken for fraternity boys were, in fact, President Clinton’s advance team. So good to have my taste in lodges vindicated.

There was no waiting around for the presidential arrival, as I soon was hustled to the airport at Kasane where an hour’s flight in a five-seat Cessna took me to the Delta and the first of three camps I was to experience: Okavango, Moremi, and Nxabega.

Okavango Delta camps typically host between 18 and 22 guests and remain quite isolated from one another, spread as they are across the world’s largest inland delta. While varying in décor, the talents of the chef, and to some extent, the degree of comfort, the facilities, routine and activities are similar.

To say that accommodations are permanent tented camps is correct, but misleading. Forget American or European camping adventures. These tents are set up on platforms with teak decks for animal viewing, have screened windows with shades on two sides, comfortable beds, designer linens, night tables, wardrobes of Rhodesian teak and private bathrooms. Generators supply lighting and there’s even turn-down service. As the manager of Moremi phrased it, “We aim for a combination of comfort and still feeling part of the environment.” To maintain the sense of place, phones, faxes and TV are taboo. “It will be a sad day,” the manager commented, “when guests start arriving with cell phones.”

Because tents are spread out, it’s easy to imagine oneself alone with nature. As I relaxed on my deck with a book that first afternoon, I felt so removed from the outside world, its stresses and problems, that it was a bit of a jolt to see other guests – two German couples, a Dutch girl, a Frenchman and honeymooners from Chile -- emerging from their secluded dwellings when the beating of a tall drum signaled tea.

Camps feature a large central structure housing comfortable hand-crafted chairs and sofas, a good supply of safari-oriented books, African handicrafts and a dining room complete with a formal table set with candelabra, cloth napkins folded to resemble egrets or water lilies, and fine silver and china. Meals were excellent and offered the opportunity to share the day’s experiences with fellow guests, a guaranteed international mix, plus camp management. Good wines taken at meals are complimentary (as by the way, is laundry).

The daily routine was one I happily fell into, starting with a gentle voice calling “knock, knock,” which signaled that coffee or tea was being placed on my deck table. At Moremi, my wake-up call often came minutes before the coffee tray, as vervet monkeys pounded the roof with jackalberry fruit. After a light breakfast, we headed out for an early morning game run, followed by a sumptuous brunch on return. After time for loafing in the lounge or tent, in a hammock, or by the pool, we gathered outdoors for afternoon tea, then another safari. To end the day, a fine dinner awaited with coffee around an open fire afterwards.

To become blasé about game runs is to lose interest in life. The beauty of the scene and  the animals never fails to amaze. And no one knows what lies around the bend. Though guides try to emphasize the importance and uniqueness of all wildlife, even the smallest creatures, it’s, of course, the Big Five (lion, leopard, cheetah, buffalo and elephant) that most tourists figure they’re paying to see. Naturally, the guides are right, but visitors’ longings are understandable and in the Delta, chances are high they’ll be fulfilled. At my three camps, we enjoyed multiple sightings of all but leopards.

While the routine is similar at the three camps, each offers its own distinctive features. Situated in a flooded delta, Camp Okavango specializes in mokoro and walking safaris. The former are traditional canoes, usually made from sausage tree wood and lasting up to eight years, which guides pole through papyrus-lined lagoons and channels dotted with water lilies. As we glided along, red lechwe, water-loving antelope, stared from the shore; yellow-billed egrets, cormorants, Hadeba ibis and pied kingfishers (nicknamed “helicopter birds” for their tendency to hover in the air with wings fluttering) flew overhead, and a half-dozen hippos submerged, rose, snorted and yawned.

After boating to nearby Buffalo Island, three other guests and I set out on foot with two guides. We studied tracks and wondered if lions and leopards teach their young to distinguish between male and female human prints as we attempted to do with theirs. What started as a pleasant nature walk, accumulating flora trivia (the ebony tree is good for elephant back-scratching, boiled bark of the plum tree makes a blue dye used in basketry) turned into high drama as a lion brought down a buffalo not all that far away. That bit of nature in action was a tad too close for me, especially since our guides were armed only with small knives.

At dinner, a South Africa interior designer offered a fascinating account of how thatch, after being handled by no fewer than 30 individuals, finally reaches the roofs of Delta safari camps. Grown in South Africa, it’s cut by village women who dry it at their homes, then transport it atop their heads or by ox cart. Families with thatch to sell place a small bundle on their fences. Buyers make the rounds, purchasing large quantities; after all, it takes 110 bundles to complete one square meter of roofing. Buyers, in turn, sell the thatch to four or five thatching companies. The 35,000 bundles required for Camp Okanvango’s bar and restaurant (the roof thatching is nine inches thick) traveled by truck to Maun, a major city on the edge of the Delta, then by 4 x 4 vehicles to sister camp Moremi and on by boat to Okavango. In fact, everything at Okavango, including furniture, had to be transported by boat. The camp’s complete inaccessibility by road makes it quite special (though not exactly cost effective).

A three-hour boat journey transferred me to Camp Moremi. I began to see the Delta as a rather small world when on arrival, I encountered a German couple who had been at Okavango my first night and an Australian I had met at Chobe who was on his way from Moremi to Okavango. After brunch, most guests settled in for a nap, but I found sitting on my secluded deck the ultimate relaxation. With no humans nearby, I became absorbed in nature, attuned to the sounds of birds, rustling leaves and the occasional nut or pod striking the roof.

Our afternoon game drive wound past trees of ebony, leadwood, feverberry and bluebush. Two wildebeest lounged in the road, Burchell’s zebras grazed alongside, and two honey badgers crossed our path. A magnificent male lion slowly moved into the tall grass and we moved right alongside him. Marabou storks delicately lifted one foot high, then placed it down in the same spot with great precision. Other sightings included kudu (yet another species of antelope), various birds perched in virtually every dead tree, zebras and three lazy female lions.

By sheer good fortune, I had Kallistus, a guide extraordinaire, all to myself the next morning as the other guests opted for an all-day outing. My African fate seems never to spot a leopard and sure enough, we missed a mother with two cubs by minutes (guests in another vehicle had watched them cross the road with a kill and disappear into the tall grass). Ever striving to please, Kallistus turned our vehicle into the brush and followed the bloody grass track where she had dragged the prey, but the grass became taller and taller and we had to give up. “Maybe a leopard this afternoon,” he vowed. Meanwhile, Kallistus kept up a running commentary about animal habits (baby hornbills can eat 100 grasshoppers a day, a little mongoose can kill a two-meter long black mamba, Africa’s most dangerous snake) and the medicinal uses of various trees and berries (the boiled leaves and roots of the feverberry make a person sweat, thus reducing fever). Unlike the typical Kenyan or Tanzanian safari, we saw no other vehicle for at least two hours.

The Delta claims some 550 bird species and an afternoon outing with Kallistus and a Swedish couple produced a good many of them. As on all drives, we actually moved from island to island. During the rainy season (January and February), drives are more limited and in July, “good” floods reach the Delta from their origin in Angola. The land needs this water, we were told, and everyone welcomes it. We found a scenic spot near five lions for our “sundowner,” or evening safari drink. While some lodges take sundowner orders before setting out, here a cooler was packed with just about any choice one might make, though gin and tonic seemed the usual preference.

Following one more early morning game run and brunch, I was driven to the airstrip for the 20 minute flight to my last camp, Nxabega. Zebras grazed in front of my tent, forming the best of African welcoming committees. Nxabega’s facilities and its setting are so lovely, visitors could almost (but not quite!) forget that it’s wildlife that brought them so far from home. During flood season, this part of the Delta resembles a lake and mokoros ferry guests along the channels. During my visit, it was merely marshy, so we explored by vehicle and on foot.

As an example of a typical Delta camp meal, which might be termed “haute bush cuisine,” my first Nxabega dinner featured a tuna mousse, beef stroganoff, snow peas, corn, rice, rolls, and for dessert, pears in red wine. With our coffee, we enjoyed amarula, which soon became my favorite liqueur.

Within five minutes of our first game run, we came upon elephants. Ken, our guide, regaled us with elephant trivia. Most interesting, perhaps, was that these massive creatures sprout six complete sets of teeth during their lifetime; when the last set wears down, the animal dies of starvation (90% succumb this way). We watched their slow, deliberate drinking pattern: suck in a trunkful, curl the trunk into the mouth, tilt the head up and “empty the glass.” Other sightings included pelicans, kudu, saddlebilled storks, baboons, woodland kingfishers, Cape buffalo and giraffes.

Although Ken jokingly referred to mosquitoes as one of the “Big Five,” I was completely unaware of them the entire trip and wasn’t bitten once. While we were introduced to various trees, plants and flowers, for me, Botswana will always be associated with the lovely aroma of wild sage. Ken, who grew up in the Delta, says people boil and drink it to relieve pain.

On a later excursion, we left our vehicles to follow an elephant-trod path on foot. Just in case we didn’t believe this land is periodically covered with water, the snail shells lying all around convinced us. As a Dutch couple and I walked with Ken through tall grass and past slender fan palms, we came upon 11 giraffes. While the two species contemplated one another, Ida summed up the mood. “We are the happy few,” she said.

If you go….

The U.S. contact for information about Botswana is Botswana Tourism; tel: 877/268-7926 or 631/858-1252; e-mail: Botswana@kainyc.com.

Mowana Lodge has 112 rooms, including suites. It is a member of Summit Hotels & Resorts. E-mail: mowana@info.bw; web: www.mowanasafarilodge.com. A standard room, including breakfast, runs $220 single and $148 per person double.

Camp Okavango. Web: www.botswana.co.za/camp-okavango-botswana.html.

Camp Moremi. Web: www.botswana.co.za/camp-moremi-botswana.html.

Camp Nxabega. Tel in U.S.: 888/88AFRICA; e-mail: usa@ccafrica.com; web: www.ccafrica.com/destinations/botswana/nxabega/default.asp.

A six-night Okavango Delta Safari, including stays at two camps, runs approximately $2,438 to $2,704 single and $1,525 to $2,032 per person double, including all meals, lodging and safaris. The rate does not include air, vehicle, or boat transfer between camps.

Be sure to pack binoculars, a sun hat, lip balm, sun lotion, a wash cloth, long pants for walks, lots of film, shampoo (it may or may not be furnished), and a jacket or windbreaker for early morning game drives.

Images by Joyce Dalton

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